Doloroso ma sognado by Lori Weber

Sorrowful but dreamy

I like the way
minor scales dip
down, like
a landing bird.

Minor scales remind me
of the deep pangs
that strike me
when I see
something sad,
like the kid
who eats alone
in the corner,
tipped away
from the crowd,
his sandwich
cut in four,
in a way that says
someone at home
loves him.

Minor scales suit the space
where I practice—
two hours every day
that go by in a haze
as if the music happens
in other time,
not world time
but music time.
When I play my piano,
images whirl and twirl
in my head, filling
the room with colour.

I’d love to take
those colours
with me to school,
but they hide
without the music.

Sometimes, during the day,
I’ll get a spark,
quick and fleeting,
but there’s too much
people-noise
for that colour
to break through.

From: Weber, Lori, Yellow Mini, 2011, Fitzhenry & Whiteside: Ontario, p. 14.

Date: 2011

By: Lori Weber (19??- )

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